


Heart of Glass, Wings of Fulgurite, Tightrope of Lightning.

by BornofFlame



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [9]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Wings, Blood, Broken Bones, Gen, Injury, M/M, Magic, Storms, Thunder and Lightning, Unsympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Virgil has wings, Wing Binding, Wingfic, roman like virgil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornofFlame/pseuds/BornofFlame
Summary: @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me on tumblr drew an amazing photo of Virgil with wings and it included a quote that was just too good to not be in a fanfic.https://what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me.tumblr.com/post/627535814854901760/the-little-stormcloud-always-thinking-in-the  drawing“The little Stormcloud, always thinking in the terms of fight or flight. Such a fragile balance can easily be toppled. Let's hope you never fall from your tightrope of lightning”
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878814
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Heart of Glass, Wings of Fulgurite, Tightrope of Lightning.

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!

Janus stroked his wings, and Virgil shivered involuntarily as the multiple sets of hands skittered down the sharp feathers.

They were pretty things —the wings were— made of the reaction when lightning hit sand, fulgurite and the way that the feathers reflected light like a prism reminded him of a rainbow that came after the storm. That came after he did.

Virgil had never seen a real rainbow, preferring to walk along the bolts of lightning as the rain pouring in sheets and the clouds boiled with anger. Janus came sometimes, holding on tight as they ran down the lightning, laughing.

Remus only came once and he broke Virgil’s feathers with how tight he held on and for weeks after he couldn’t fly, the fragile feathers having to grow back completely before he was free again. It was bloody and the vermillion contrasted with his pale skin and dark clothes.

Janus says that they’re the last of the Dark ones, the gods that lived in the sky and controlled the world. He murmurs it in Virgil’s ear at night, reminding him that he didn’t belong to himself, that Virgil was Janus’s godling. He could spin the most beautiful of lies, taking a dream and twisting it so that it nearly snapped. They called him Deceit for a reason after all. The scariest part wasn’t his lies, but that he mixed it with enough truth that you believed it to be honest, after all, who was Janus to hurt an innocent god?

The hands stopped their wandering and cold lips pressed themselves at the point in Virgil’s back where the wings connected, flawless. Another mark proving that his glass heart belonged to someone else.

Virgil wants to run.

Down the lighting, follow it to the ground, to the humans far below, to where the Light ones roamed among the people. He wants to spread his wings and give them a powerful flap, enough to disrupt the air around him, strong muscle and bone able to shatter even the strongest spine if they were unfortunate enough to collide.

He wants to fight someone, Remus maybe, until his knuckles are black and blue, and his wings are dislocated. Janus didn’t deserve to rule over him, to say what he could and couldn’t do, to bind his fulgurite feathers when they fell asleep at night.

He wants to wrap his wings around a person that he cares about, wants to envelope them in the comfort of a Light one, like the one that he saw out in the rain sometimes, with auburn hair and a reckless smile.

Virgil is Anxiety though— he’s what humans fear, when children cower under covers because that thunder shakes the house and the darkness creeps in. He’s not a Light one and his wings remind him of that everyday.

Fight or Flight, the two instincts wired so deeply in the hearts of humanity that no matter how much the Light one will try, they can’t get rid of him. Janus and Remus are the same as Virgil, lies and twisted thoughts that broke down what was good.

…

His wings were bound with a silk chord, too fine to break and Virgil curled him on himself as Deciet’s voice washed over him.

“The little Stormcloud, always thinking in the terms of fight or flight. Such a fragile balance can easily be toppled. Let's hope you never fall from your tightrope of lightning”

The voice is smooth and soon enough, Janus is laying beside him, a few hands curl into the feathers and the rest out. It looks like a happy couple, but Virgil knows better, because he’s absolutely miserable.

It rains three times harder that night and he can feel a crack in his glass heart appear.

It hurts, just as much at the silk chord.

…

Virgil is running down a lightning tightrope when another bolt decides that it wants to connect to the one that he’s on. It doesn’t, but the bolt does go through his wing and he can feel his heart completely shatter as electricity runs through one wing and out the other, draining him. Virgil wobbles, it only was milliseconds long, but it felt like hours.

He can’t breathe, he can’t see and his foot slips off the lightning and he’s falling. Virgil tries to open his wings, but the force of his free fall is too strong and so now he can only hope that the Dark ones can die if they hit the ground hard enough.

Spoiler: they don’t.

Virgil hits the ground so hard he can hear the sound of one of his wings splintering, sending fulgurite feathers deep into his flawless skin.

Maybe Deceit won’t want him back after this.

The pain is too much and Virgil is gone….

…

If Roman was outside when it rained, it most certainly wasn’t because he was watching a Dark one dance across the sky, jumping from lighting strike to lightning strike, never coming down further to the earth. It most certainly wasn’t because he’d fallen in love with a god of fear.

Okay, yes, he was out so he could watch him. Patton teased him relentlessly about it and Logan was against, for good reasons, but Roman?

Oh, he was long gone.

It was one of these days, when the sky fell, the rain and thunder enough to scare away any person with the slightest shred of common sense. Not Roman though. He was watching the Dark one weave across the sky, lost in the thrill of a thunderstorm.

He saw the lightning arc through the god and Roman watched the fall to Earth, knowing that the impact would send him back if he tried to run to him now.

The scream after hurt Roman’s ears. He had heard the sound from humans many times, when they got too injured, or when they lost a lover, the sound of raw emotion ripping vocal chords.

He was by the god’s side before the sound faded.

Roman recognized him from up close. Humans called him Paranoia, and he was the most beautiful god that he’d ever seen. Paranoia was shrouded in blood and when Roman lifted him, he could feel the broken wing shards that pressed into his forearms and probably Paranoia’s back.

It was strange, fear being beautiful.

Roman got him home, to where Logan and Patton were, both of them with healing salves and bandages, almost as if they knew that Roman was bringing home a guest.

The three worked silently, pulling out shards of glass from Paranoia’s arms and back, setting his wings into place and then wrapping them in bandages while Logan tested the unconscious form for brain damage.

When he was clean, Roman took him to his room, giving him the bed before going to sleep under the kitchen table.

…

Awakening was slow, and everything hurt so badly that Virgil didn’t realize that he was in a comfortable bed alone with his wings free.

Ish.

They felt odd, and when he flipped to his stomach to lift one wing over his head, and that’s when he realized that the flight feathers were gone.

No.

No.

He was grounded, flightless, unable to get back to Deceit or Remus. Virgil’s lungs weren’t able to keep up with his thoughts and he almost blacked out before warm light was flooding the room and a hand was on his bare shoulder, grounding his thoughts in a good way.

“Hey, are you okay?”  
“My wings…”

“They’ll get better, don’t worry.”

“That’s kinda my job.” Virgil gave a half sob, half laugh and the hand that was on his shoulder moved away, taking the familiar warmth with it. To his embarrassment, a whine escaped his throat and the hand was back, carefully stroking his wings in the non hurt spots as the weight on the bed shifted and Virgil knew that the person who had helped him was here to stay.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Roman. And you?”

“Virgil.”

…

He had a heart of glass, wings of fulgurite, walked a tightrope of lighting— all of it leading Virgil to the place he belonged.

Home.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a discord! [Here it is!!!](https://discord.gg/kFZCXg)
> 
> comments? kudos?


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